Five-Year-Old Fly

Click. Click. Her Mary Jane's dance across the concrete. Skip. Flop. Her curls bounce on petite shoulders. A little pink t-shirt leaping toward the sky. “Evie. Ivy. Over” He has bright blue eyes, full of wonder, Staring at an angel that's jumping to the clouds. “I like coffee. I like tea.” Her voice is sing-song, like bells. Light brown curls become rays of sunshine all on their own. “I like boys,” She might as well sprout wings and fly. He wants to grab her hand. Be lifted up by her “And the boys like me!” He is in love.

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So clever, so youthful, so free. The innocence of the young girl's voice is so calming to me...and while youthful innocence is often tried to be remade over and over through poem, this is a unique form of carefree, confident, naiveté. Bravo